


Left Out & Left Behind

by RebKa (RkB)



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Depressed Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson Deserves Better, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson Whump, Gen, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Swears, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28512729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RkB/pseuds/RebKa
Summary: Dick Grayson finds himself excluded and ostracized from his family due to misunderstandings.He does not handle his loneliness well.  Will his family come around before it’s too late?*references to self harm and depression.  Please read with caution*
Relationships: Batfamily Members & Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson & Clark Kent, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Comments: 21
Kudos: 336





	Left Out & Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this one a while back, but lost momentum and got distracted with other ideas. I probably should’ve made chapters given the length of the story...
> 
> Anyway, I hope it’s ok. I worry my story related thoughts got a little scattered. I threw Clark in here too as I feel he’s a level headed mediator for the Batfamily... plus I just like him. 
> 
> Please exercise self-care as some themes in this story center around self inflicted harm and depression. Also, Jason swears. 
> 
> I REALLY, truly appreciate comments! I read and cherish them all! 
> 
> xo

Echoes of laughter rang out from the rooftop of a Gotham highrise in the middle of the night. The jovial sound waves floated up to the shadows of the neighbouring rooftop. 

The melodic laughter reached the ears of a solitary hero and chilled his bones more than the crisp autumn breeze.

Dick Grayson in his black and blue alter ego, Nightwing, was perched there just out of eyeshot. He observed the easy, and lighthearted interactions among his family and despite how this togetherness would have brought the brightest grin to Dick’s face once upon a time, all he could manage now was a hitched breath and salty tears hazing his vision. 

Red Hood, Red Robin, Spoiler, Batgirl, and surprisingly even Batman and Robin had stopped by for the rooftop debrief. 

The tiny, innocent, circus boy voice inside of Dick pleaded with and urged him to just grapple over and include himself. To go and wrap his arms around Damian, ruffle Tim’s hair and make a wise ass remark at Jason. Then he would go back to the manor with them and Alfred would make them hot chocolate. 

A little part of him dared to hope that he was still loved and wanted by his patchwork family. However, his slight inner optimism was quickly crushed back to nothingness as he soberly reminded himself of the facts. 

The fact was that nobody wanted anything to do with him since his return from Spyral, 

_‘Well maybe Dami would’,_ he thought, but one kid in his corner wasn’t enough to win back the hearts of everyone else. 

_‘Jason will punch my lights out again, and Tim...’_ Dick let out a weak, shuddering breath.

Tim would look at him with disdain and loathing again which actually felt worse to Dick than Jason’s fist to his face. 

Nightwing understood that his presence would only mar the happiness that his family was currently enjoying. It seemed that perhaps their common hatred for Dick was what had finally brought them all together and forged a new found sense of family. A family unit that looked and sounded much happier without him. 

In fact, Dick had first discovered this end of shift gathering when he was patrolling the streets of Gotham alone.

~

_  
**Earlier that evening...**   
_

Dick didn’t actually want to patrol alone, but his earlier invitation for anyone to join him went unanswered. 

_‘Ghosted in the group chat’,_

Dick remarked to himself with a sad smile. _‘Now, I could make a country music song with that title if I could only carry a tune’._

Dick started to suspect that the group chat in which he was a part of, was not the chat where everyone else chatted anyway. He figured that they likely formed a side chat and probably vented about how Dick had some nerve to expect a partner on patrol. 

As the time for patrol approached, Dick forced his weary bones up from his lumpy couch and he dumped his now soggy, mostly uneaten cereal down the sink. He left his unwashed bowl on top of the mound of other unwashed dishes. He was sure some of the filthy dishes at the bottom of the sink were probably starting to grow fur, but the hero couldn’t be bothered to care right now. 

Dick checked his phone again, just in case he had missed any last minute replies from his siblings. The only reply came from Damian to let Dick know that he would be patrolling alongside Batman. Of course. 

_’Thanks Dames, stay safe, xo’_

With a sigh, Dick dropped his phone onto the kitchen counter and dragged himself to his bathroom as he readied himself for the long, cold and now lonely night ahead. 

He initially avoided looking at himself in the mirror as he didn’t want to catch a glimpse of the most detestable, unwanted person in the city, but ultimately decided to face his own reflection. 

“You did this to yourself, asshole”, 

Dick remarked to his pale, gaunt and tired looking self. His inky black hair covered his eyes as he dropped his head. Pitiful tears dropped into the sink and washed away with the tap water. 

Thankfully patrol was uneventful that night, so Nightwing decided to take some time to grapple around and tried to enjoy the feeling of flight. The wind whipping through his hair calmed his nerves a little. 

Nightwing grounded himself on the rooftop of a typical gargoyle edged Gotham building when the recognizable voices wafted in his direction. 

Watching the scene, Dick felt a wave of emotion. Along with the myriad of thoughts of longing to be part of a family, of wishing to be embraced, of desperately wanting to be reassured that he was loved. Dick felt another darker feeling creep in. 

Guilt.

He felt guilty that he was alive. Guilty that he came back to try and be with this family. Guilty that his presence could possibly threaten to interrupt this moment of happiness for his brothers and sisters and his Da-Bruce. 

His entire being felt like a black cloud casting a shadow over the people he cherished. 

Dick steeled himself and secretly slipped off the far side of the building and made his way back home.

~

Night after night for the next week, Dick found himself returning to the same hiding spot to ‘spy’ on his family’s patrol meetups.

Call it morbid curiosity, or just a yearning desire to hear the voices of loved ones who refused to speak with him directly. 

Oftentimes, it would just be Jason, Tim, Steph and Cass in their hero personas, and on the rare occasion Robin and the big Bat would join them to briefly check in.

Dick decided after a few awkward weeks that it would be best to stop sending group chat messages altogether, since clearly nobody wished to respond to him. 

Instead, Dick just sent the occasional text message to Damian privately to make sure that his young Robin was alright. 

Dick resigned himself to speaking to himself out loud, or engaged in some extra verbal sparring with criminals he fought while patrolling alone, since he wasn’t getting much practice to use his voice in any other civilized conversation.

~

On a cold Sunday evening, Dick somehow found himself parked outside of the manor. He couldn’t even remember driving over as he was feeling like he could only see the world through a hazy grey lens instead of focused and in colour.

“Why am I even here?”, he asked himself out loud before he reminded himself of Alfred’s phone call the day before, 

_“We haven’t seen you at family supper in a few weeks, Master Dick. Your company at the manor tomorrow would be much appreciated by all.”_

Dick resisted the automatic urge to scoff at that statement and instead replied, _“I’ll be there, Alf”_

Pushing the thoughts aside, Dick entered the manor and found his senses assaulted by warmth, life and light. He realized that had grown so accustomed to the cold and dark loneliness that he felt instantly out of place. 

Dinner consisted of Bruce, Damian, Tim and Dick with Alfred serving them faithfully as per usual. Cass was apparently out of town and Jason was supposed to be present at dinner, but was possibly running late...if he would even make it at all. 

Dick scraped together all of the minuscule crumbs of energy within himself to initiate conversation, in order to seem somewhat normal. 

Why did it seem so hard to even start a conversation? Dick wondered. He was supposed to be the talkative one, right? 

“How is school going, Tim?”, 

Dick asked cordially hoping this question might be even the smallest twig of an olive branch between the two of them,

“Meh”, came Tim’s response in between bites of his pasta. The teen answered without even so much as a glance over at Dick. 

Dick nodded at the response and turned to ask Damian the same question. Thankfully, Damian was far more engaging and regaled the table with his quips of how inadequate the schooling in Gotham was. 

Dick listened to Damian until his attention was snapped to the heavy footsteps approaching the dining room. Jason gruffly plopped down at the table settling in next to Tim and across from Dick, and of course, in the farthest seat away from Bruce. 

Dick could feel Jason’s eyes narrow in on him as Alfred served up Jason’s food. 

“Hey Jay-“, Dick greeted warily. 

“It’s Jason to you”, interrupted Jason with a harsh glare. Clearly still holding on to his hostility towards his older brother. 

Bruce’s gaze shot up and wandered between Jason and Dick. 

Dick averted his eyes long before Jason could finish sizing him up, lest Dick’s clouded and dull eyes cause any comments. 

Too late.

“Mmmpfh, you look like shit Dickie,”  
Jason snorted as he shoved a forkful of pasta into his mouth. 

Jason chewed on his food for a quick second then continued, 

“actually shit looks a lot nicer than you do at this point. The fuck’s up with your clothes?” 

“No time to do laundry” Dick lied. 

Truthfully, Dick didn’t want to admit that he didn’t have the desire to do laundry or anything else and so found the biggest, and least smelly sweatshirt and sweatpants on his apartment floor. 

At least nobody in this immediate family could see through his pants to discover that he went commando due to a lack of clean underwear. Dinner with Superman would have been much more humiliating. 

The second reason for choosing such oversized attire would be so that his family wouldn’t see exactly how much weight he had lost over the past few weeks. 

“Hmmph, not only your clothes, _Dickface_ ”, Jason remarked sizing Dick up, “ya look like yer new shampoo is a bottle of Olive Oil-“

“Jason!” 

Bruce cut in warningly before the physical assessment of Dick could continue, 

“Knock it off and eat your dinner.”

Dick kept his eyes down willing himself not to cry. He knew he looked as bad as he felt, but the actual confirmation from Jason hurt. 

Not only that, but he found he couldn’t stomach Alfred’s amazing cooking. Everything tasted like sawdust. Dick managed to ingest a few bites to appease his grandfather figure anyway. He was grateful that he managed to keep his cheeks tear-free. 

He didn’t realize he was anxiously bouncing his leg up and down underneath the table until Damian touched his knee to steady it. 

“Grayson-“ Damian stared to say while looking at him with concern.

Dick put his hand on top of Damian’s and squeezed lightly to re-assure him that he was alright. Damian could always read Dick pretty well. It was part of why they made such a good team when Dick was Batman. 

Bruce cleared his throat and without looking at Dick stated, 

“we haven’t seen you on patrol much lately, Dick. You must be keeping busy.”

“Mhm. Keeping busy.” Dick responded automatically, and then almost like a nervous tick repeated quietly, “keeping busy”

Bruce looked up at Dick after the uncharacteristic and robotic repetition. He waited a moment then asked, 

“Oh Dick, that reminds me, would you mind coming down to the cave after you’re done eating? I have a case that I would like you to look over quickly. I could use your perspective on it.”

Dread filled Dick’s stomach and he clamped his mouth shut in a tight line. He had zero desire to be in the cave with Bruce alone. Not after the beating he sustained at the man’s hands before Spyral. 

Despite all of the red flags, Dick clenched his trembling hand closed and managed a quick, 

“mhm, sure”. 

Jason whistled and snorted out,

“Jeez Dickhead, aren’t you normally the Chatty Cathy around these parts? Did that Olive Oil shampoo seep into your goddamn brain or sum shit? 

Hmmph, or maybe you’re too good ta chit chat with us lesser Robins here... _Golden Boy_ ”

“Todd! Shut your mouth, you imbecile!” 

“Why don’t _you_ shut your mouth, Demon spawn?!” Tim shrieked out. 

And unsurprisingly the three younger brothers descended into their usual state of bickering. Some morsels of Alfred’s meticulously cooked food wound up flying back and forth across the table. 

Bruce decided to huff out of the room after a clump of Caesar salad bounced off of his neatly kept hair and settled onto his much too expensive designer shirt. 

Tim, Jason and Damian decided to move their argument into another room after Jason jumped up and challenged them to settle their non-sensical argument via some video games. 

Meanwhile, Dick just sat at the table rigid and unfeeling. Moving felt like too big a chore for the former acrobat. He startled when Alfred placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

Alfred hid his alarm at the bony feeling of Dick’s shoulder beneath his thick sweatshirt. 

“My dear boy, what seems to have you troubled so?” 

Dick looked at the table and realized the he had missed the expanse of time during which Alfred had cleared off the dishes. Dick had fully intended to help the aging butler. Instead, he found himself watching wearily as Alfred placed a fresh cup of tea in front of his grandson. 

_’Good going Grayson’,_ chimed in Dick’s inner voice, _‘useless and unhelpful. You waste of space.’_

“Master Dick?” Alfred prodded gently again. Ever patient and still waiting for an answer.

“Don’t worry about it Alfie. Just a little tired from work stuff, that’s all”, 

Dick gathered the courage to plaster on a shaky grin and look into Alfred’s worried gray eyes. Alfred’s searching gaze pierced into his watery, clouded over sapphire eyes, and he knew that Alfred didn’t buy the bullshit that Dick was currently trying to sell. 

Alfred, as perceptive as ever, gathered his touch-starved grandson into a much needed hug and remained ever professional. Letting Dick’s tears soak into his shoulder. 

Dick gathered up his broken self and left the manor shortly afterwards. He politely rejected Alfred’s offer to stay the night at the manor, knowing he could never feel at home there with all of the hurt and unresolved issues that lingered. 

Dick did take a portion of leftovers at Alfred’s insistence. He attempted to say ‘bye’ to his brothers and as expected, only Damian gave him the time of day, allowing Dick to hug him goodbye while Jason and Tim kept their attention deliberately focussed away from Dick. 

Bruce sat in the cave for several hours, knowing he wouldn’t see Dick down there anytime soon. Thankfully he didn’t actually have cases that needed to be looked at, but he had hoped the suggestion of a mystery would entice Dick down to the cave where Dick might feel able to open up to him. 

As time passed, Bruce found his thoughts consumed by the vacant, defeated look in Dick’s eyes. A look that Bruce knew he helped to put there, but didn’t have the emotional depth to try and fix.

He spent time with Alfred the next day listening to his elder as he expressed his worries for Dick’s mental health, well-being and lack of support. 

Bruce agreed fully, and resolved in his mind to step in and help Dick, but as with the life of a hero, especially one who is part of the Justice League, a new day lead to a new mission and the urgency of the mission tended to supersede all pre-existing thoughts.

~

Nightwing patrolled for the next few nights. Unsure of how he was even still functioning. Luckily for his years of experience, he made quick work of some thugs, but made sure to drop his defenses in order to absorb a few extra blows to his face and midsection. The pain provided slight confirmation that he could still feel something.

The pain was one of the only reminders that he was still a living being and existed in this Earthly realm; and even though food had no taste for him anymore, the blood in his mouth still tasted metallic and distinct. 

Nightwing, having nothing going on during his solo patrol for the moment, decided to turn on his comms for the first time in a while and heard the call from Oracle letting him know that Red Robin and Red Hood could use a hand. 

Without hesitation, Nightwing proceeded to their coordinates and found his brothers dangerously outnumbered. Red Robin had his hands tied behind his back with a group of henchmen standing around him. Red Hood was trying to get to Tim but was fighting off a bunch of men and on the verge of being overrun. 

Dick surmised that this particular mobster was very well connected and had likely expected the company of some vigilantes tonight, hence the predicament his brothers found themselves in. 

That being said, the bad guys certainly hadn’t counted on Nightwing’s late arrival. 

Thankfully, Nightwing could kick ass without so much as giving it a second thought. He had done this on zero sleep, and on an empty stomach too many times to count. His black and blue clad form blitzed into the warehouse and caught everyone off guard taking out a handful of goons in one fell swoop. 

Nighwing’s lack of regard for his own safety served him well in this instance. Not that he would ever prioritize his own safety over any of his family members. 

This timely distraction helped Red Hood gain the upper hand on his opponents. 

Nightwing flipped, kicked and Escrima shocked his way to Tim’s position. No injuries he sustained even registered to Nightwing while his baby brother was in danger, but Dick hadn’t even tried to dodge the gunshots. 

In the end, Dick was fortunate that he had only managed to sustain a few bullet grazes to his arm, midsection and outer thigh.

He managed to get Tim untied. Tim was mostly unharmed aside from some bruised ribs and what was likely a sprained wrist. 

Nightwing, Red Hood and Red Robin managed to get all the baddies zip tied and secured while Oracle called in the authorities to detain the criminals. Once their job was done and seconds before the GCPD arrived they grappled off into the night to seek a moment’s respite on a private Gotham rooftop. 

Dick found himself atop the coveted roof where he spied his younger brothers and sisters having a good time a few weeks ago. He was _finally_ with them. Maybe this would be a turning point and start to mend their wounded relationships. 

Dick dared to feel a spark of hope. The first flicker of a positive feeling he had felt in ages. 

Going up to Tim he hugged his brother tenderly and asked, “you ok, Timmy?” 

Tim tensed awkwardly with his arms  
firmly to his sides and replied, “yeah, man. Uh.. thanks.” 

Red Hood marched up to Dick, shoved him backwards and huffed, 

“the fuck you think you were doing, Dickface?! Who told you to come? We had the fuckin’ shit under control.”

“I heard you might need a hand, Little Wing, that was all. I was close by and didn’t want anything to happen to my baby bros.” 

Dick didn’t want to argue with Jason by rubbing in that he actually saw his brothers in a very desperate situation, and in dire need of reinforcements. 

“Well you didn’t seem to give a fuck ‘bout us when you were off playing sexy spy boy now were ya? You probably got a hard on thinking of all of us crying over your grave”, Jason spit back at Dick, 

“and by the fuckin’ way, it’s Hood to you, not ‘Little Wing’. You seem ta think we need ya, cuz you’re daddy’s perfect little Golden boy. We managed just fine getting over your so-called ‘death’ and then kicked tons of ass without ya, bud.” 

“So now,” Jason then shoved his finger into Dick’s chest and punctuated each word sharply, 

“Who. The. Fuck. Needs. You?”

Dick didn’t know how to respond to that. The adrenaline in his system had started to wear off and the extreme lack of sleep and nourishment started to weigh heavily on Dick. 

He didn’t have the energy or presence of mind to even begin to argue or explain the complexity of the entire situation or how wrong Jason had perceived the situation. 

Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph and Damian clearly didn’t know about his legitimate death, the funeral that took place without his knowledge or consent, and that he was forced under extreme duress to join Spyral. 

He also didn’t want to throw his Dad.. no... _Bruce_ under the bus. Not when Jason was finally on decent terms with the man. 

Bruce was crucial. He was the head of a very important societal mission, business corporation and household. Dick, on the other hand, was just a non-vital appendage. He could be replaced... and in fact he had been replaced numerous times. But there was only one true Batman. 

“Alright Jay...Jason”, Dick yielded by dropping his head to look down at his feet,

“I- I’m so sorry. I wish I could make this better but I think the only way I can try to do that is by leaving you all alone. I -I fucked up. I- I...I’ve never stopped fucking up. I’m just... fucked up.” 

Dick looked up and felt the tears burst forth and waterfall down his face. 

Dick saw a startled unsettled looking Tim averting his gaze, because who wants to see your supposedly strong, oldest non-brother crying like a baby? 

Jason just looked back at him with a skeptical expression and rolled his eyes. Unimpressed by Dick’s emotion he barked out,

“Ha! Oh yeah right, here comes the infamous Dickie Grayson waterworks. Not gonna get you off the hook this time...”

Dick tried to reign in his despair but failed miserably. He choked out one last request in between sobs while he could still manage to speak through his highly emotional state, 

“th-the rest of you... p-p-please just stay t-together and keep meeting h-here. You n-need each other, ok?” 

Dick took in a deep shuddering breath and hiccuped out, 

“Stay a fa-family even with B. He... he n-needs you most. D-don’t for-forget to h-hug my D-Dami. I fu-fucked up my chance at h-h-having a family. P-pl-please don’t make the same m-mistake.” 

Jason and Tim both stood shocked in stunned silence. Not willing to forgive so easily, but not feeling quite as sure of their earlier hurt and anger. 

Dick then turned and started walking, or rather, stumbling away. 

Jason and Tim heard Dick mumble out loud to nobody in particular, “I-I’m s-sorry ... sor... s-sorry”

Dick grappled away and left his very perplexed brothers standing there for a short time before they were joined by Robin, Batgirl and Spoiler. 

Needless to say, Jason and Tim left the details of the last part of the evening with Nightwing out of their mission debrief.

~

True to his word, Dick Grayson quietly left the family group chat as soon as he stumbled in through his apartment window early that morning. Not that it would have made much of a difference since his phone was set for disconnection in a couple of days anyway. His phone slipped from his hands and the screen shattered.

Dick, in his apathetic state, had been neglecting to pay his bills. So his heat, electricity, phone, cable etc. were either already disconnected or on the verge of being disconnected. 

Dick stripped off his Nightwing uniform in the dark and had just enough presence of mind to stash it away safely along with his Escrima sticks. He found a box at the back of his closet with a gift from a certain mercenary who once -or perhaps still- held Dick in high enough regard to gift him a custom set of knives. 

Dick didn’t know what his intention was, he didn’t want to end his life, but didn’t know how to keep living as a pariah either. It felt wrong that he was alive after everyone thought he had been dead. 

He felt extreme guilt that he wasted people’s time and tears. Coming to his funeral and crying beside his grave. He wasn’t worth the tears.

Jason’s words, _‘Who. The. Fuck. Needs. You?’_ rang loudly in his ears. 

The answer was nobody. 

_‘Nobody needs Dick Grayson,’_ he thought. Like Jason said, they hadn’t needed him when he was missing and presumed dead, so why would they need him now? 

Dick sat down in his closet and slumped back, he grasped the ornate handle of one of the knives that Slade had gifted him and ran the immaculately sharpened blade lightly along the edges of the bullet grazes that he had sustained earlier that evening, re-opening the clotting wounds. 

Slade certainly knew a thing or two about high quality weaponry as the knife parted Dick’s flesh like a hot knife through butter. 

Dick didn’t flinch or react in any way. The pain didn’t seem to register much to him. 

The only thing that registered was a deepening sense of not caring what happened to himself either way. 

As a precaution, Dick settled on shallowly carving the word, ‘Sorry’ into the naturally tan coloured flesh of his abdomen. That way if anybody tried to find him he could apologize without having to speak, as he didn’t think he could will his mouth into talking to anyone anymore. 

Dick limply dropped the knife, as he felt the blood start to creep down his belly and soak into the waistband of his sweatpants. He certainly wouldn’t bleed out, and he figured he probably wouldn’t need many stitches but the word was clearly legible and deep enough to scar. 

He grabbed his stuffed elephant, Zitka who he stored in his closet as well. He didn’t always need her, but he needed her now. 

Not wanting to do anything else, Dick curled up on the cold, dark laminate floor of his closet, blood leaking onto the floor beneath him. 

He clutched Zitka close and just waited for something or nothing. Whichever came first.

~

2 days later, Clark dropped by Gotham for a visit. He had some League business to discuss with Batman who was back on world.

Clark found he could use a little non-criminal excitement which was almost always promised when he visited The Batcave and subsequently Wayne Manor. Alfred was also gracious enough to invite him to stay for dinner. 

Alfred’s cooking, which rivalled his Ma’s home cooking, plus the company the evening promised, had a certain Man of Steel feeling soft and fuzzy around the edges. 

Clark was also hoping to speak with his first nephew, whom he hadn’t seen or heard from in ages. Dick always lit up Clark’s life like the ball of sunshine that he was, and although Clark understood why his death was faked and his subsequent undercover mission, he knew that not all of Dick’s siblings or friends were as understanding.

Clark had heard about Jason’s punch when Dick first revealed himself to be alive, and he hoped the brothers were finally able to mend fences. Especially since Dick had been the one who worked so hard to re-integrate Jason back into the family unit again upon his return as Red Hood. 

Clark had many heart to heart conversations with Dick over the years and he truly knew how much Dick loved his siblings, Alfred, and even Bruce. 

Clark tried to reach Dick to make sure he would be joining them for dinner, but was surprised when Dick’s number was no longer in service. 

_‘Hm.. it’s not like Dick to not tell me about a new number’,_ thought Clark. 

But, Clark shrugged it off assuming that Dick would just fill him in on everything later that evening. 

Dick was generally not one to miss family dinners. He had always basked in togetherness- probably from his circus days- so his absence was Clark’s first shock of the evening. 

Clark didn’t inquire about Dick right away, but he definitely picked up on some more details that gave him many reasons to feel unsettled.

There was a notable strange and tense energy surrounding Jason and Tim. Jason excused himself briefly during dinner to step outside and smoke a cigarette (Clark was able to pick up on this thanks to his hearing). And while Tim never looked rested on the best of days, he looked even worse for wear, and appeared as though his thoughts were a million miles away. 

Damian looked as sour as ever and glared in Clark’s direction. Clark was tempted to tell Damian that he looked as cute as a button when he was grumpy, but decided to go with his better judgement and just stayed silent. He wouldn’t put it past Damian to fish out some Kryptonite if he pushed too many of the boy’s buttons. 

Typically, Dick would have been the one to soften the youngling’s mood via a forced cuddle, but there was no such luck today. 

Cass.... well, Clark could never get much of a read on her if he was being honest.

Alfred and Bruce seemed pensive in their own ways. But didn’t say or do anything to express any emotions. 

Clark decided to zero in on Tim. Tim was a bit more of an open book compared to the rest, and there was most definitely something going on. 

Superman even picked up on the occasional nervous flutter of Tim’s heartbeat. This strange thumping was outside of Tim’s usual caffeine fueled cardiac rhythms. 

Clark sighed inwardly wondering, ‘how did _I_ become the private eye in a room full of bat detectives?’

Clark decided to embrace the role anyway and tested the waters gently, 

“so how has Dick been lately? I haven’t heard from him in a bit.”

_‘Bad decision’,_ Clark immediately thought to himself as nearly everyone seemed to tense up at the question. 

Bruce piped up, 

“Dick is working on some things on his own in his city. We are respecting his space as per his wishes. He last assisted Jason and Tim on patrol a couple of nights ago, and indicated to them directly that he would be taking some time away.” 

_‘Fantastic, Bruce. That really answered my question.’_ Clark thought sarcastically, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at his elusive friend. Clark didn’t miss the quick flash of emotion that crossed Tim’s face at Bruce’s words. 

Clark decided to push a little further, 

“Does anyone have his new number actually? His old one seems to be disconnected and I am starting to miss the random cute puppy videos he sends me”, 

Clark joked, to the amusement of nobody, _’whoa, tough room,’_

Damian spoke up this time with a hint of bitterness, 

“Grayson does not wish to be reached. He did not even see fit to give his former partner his number, so why would he give it to the likes of you, Kent.” 

“Rude, Demon”, mumbled Jason. Jason then abruptly stood and excused himself from the table. He stormed out of the manor in a hurry. 

“Feels bad and sad,” Cass said looking at a perplexed Clark. Clark realized that Cass could probably perceive Clark’s confusion all evening and she mercifully threw him this teeny hint. 

Clark was left feeling like a very inept detective because he felt no closer to solving the mystery of what could have happened to cause Dick to disconnect from everyone in this way. 

The surrounding reactions that evening in Wayne Manor weren’t helping to solve the puzzle either. 

Dick had fallen out of touch before and had conflicts with family, but never to the point of having no contact with anyone. Dick was always quick to forgive, or get others to forgive him. 

Following the meal, as everyone was clearing from the dining room to go and watch a movie in the family room, Alfred gently grabbed on to Clark’s elbow and pulled him aside,

“Mr. Kent, I am troubled greatly for Master Dick’s well being. I know he has great admiration for you and he may find it easier to speak with you than Master Bruce. If it’s not too great a favour to ask, would you please be so kind as to check in on him if you so have the time?”

Clark put his hand on Alfred’s shoulder lightly and nodded, “I will most certainly do that, Alfred”

Before turning away, Alfred remarked, 

“you see Mr. Kent, Master Dick has also not given me his new phone number.” 

With that, Alfred walked out of the room and into the kitchen. 

Clark snapped to attention after this detail from Alfred. Never, in all of the times that Dick had fallen out with the family or been apart from them had he ever failed to remain in touch with Alfred. 

Dick always went out of his way to check in with Alfred given his love for the man he considered to be like his grandfather. 

Clark was deep in thought when he heard a faint, distant whisper of, 

“Clark, can you come to my room please?”

Tim. That was Tim.

~

Clark entered Tim’s room after a quick couple of knocks on the teenager’s bedroom door.

He looked around quickly and took in the mostly tidy room, aside from a small pile of clothes in the far corner of the room and the collection of at least a half dozen coffee mugs taking up the space on the side of Tim’s desk. Clark figured those cups were probably just from today. 

“Timmy,” Clark approached calmly, “is everything alright?”

“I know you can tell that I’m concerned, Clark” Tim replied matter of factly.

Right. Tim was always quick to get to the point and mature beyond his years. Clark nodded slightly and Tim continued, 

“What... what Bruce said at dinner. That was only partly true. It’s what Jason and I told everyone. Dick did help me and Jason out on patrol a couple of days ago. But he isn’t willingly taking time away. At least I don’t think so.” 

“What do you mean, Tim?” Clark asked gently but with insistence. 

“Clark, we were so angry with Dick. He faked his death and then seemed to stroll back in thinking a smile and a hug could just make up for it. He always thinks that. I was still so angry at him for taking Robin away from me and then he dies....but then...like...he didn’t die.” 

Clark could see Tim battling his innermost emotions. Tim fiddled with his fingers, and looked down at his lap, 

“I just wanted to stay angry with him. It’s easier to be angry with him. It felt right to be angry with him, at first. I let Jason take out his anger at Dick by punching him and yelling at him and stood by watching with satisfaction”

“But... something changed?” Clark hinted as he could feel the guilt bursting at Tim’s seams. 

“Yeah,” Tim nodded his head slowly, “I think I don’t want to be mad at Dick anymore. I think Jason doesn’t want to be mad at Dick anymore either, but we are still hurting and don’t feel safe trusting him with our emotions.”

“Sorry Tim, I may have missed something here. What is making you change your mind about Dick exactly?”

“Clark. He... he looked and sounded so broken. At dinner last week he looked... unwell. I didn’t want to give him the time of day though, or reward his possible attention seeking behaviour, so I didn’t even think of doing anything to see if I could help him. 

I thought Bruce might talk to him about it, but then I found out that he didn’t,” Tim sucked in a deep breath and continued, 

“then on patrol a couple of days ago, he rushed in to help us out but didn’t seem to care whether he got himself shot in the process. He can be reckless, but this looked... I don’t know... different. He was bleeding but like- he didn’t even seem to notice. Jason got mad at him. You know how Jason can be, Clark. He gets mad and explodes when he worries. Jay gets mad as a default before registering any other emotions.

And Dick just took it all. All of the harsh words. Jason _really_ gave it to him... said we didn’t need him when he was gone and we don’t need him now.”

Tim dropped his head into his hands and Clark tenderly rubbed his back as Tim started to cry. 

“D said he was fucked up, and agreed to stay away from us. He removed himself from the family group chat... not that any of us were including him or responding to his comments anyway.”

Clark felt heartbroken for Tim and Jason and Dick. They have all been through so much and endured so much throughout their young lives. 

Clark’s stomach felt like a bundle of knots. He knew how sensitive Dick was and was certain he would be taking Jason’s words exceptionally hard. 

At that moment, Bruce poked his head into Tim’s room after a light knock on the door, “I was just looking to talk shop with you for a moment, Clark,” 

Bruce halted, took in the scene before him and asked worriedly, “Is everything alright in here, Clark? Timmy?”

Tim sat with his head in his hands and agonized over words that couldn’t be unsaid and actions that were too late to take back. Clark stood and put his hand on Tim’s shoulder lightly. He turned to look at his concerned friend and asked, 

“Bruce, can you please sit with Tim? He needs you right now. And Tim, buddy, could you please share with Bruce what you just told me? He needs to know.”

Bruce took a seat next to Tim on his bed and looked up at Clark inquisitively. Clark replied hurriedly, 

“I have to go check on Dick.”

~

Clark tore through the sky ‘faster than a speeding bullet’, some might say. He arrived at Dick’s place in mere moments, but could have sworn that it felt like it took hours.

He could see that the lights were off... maybe Dick wasn’t home and was actually taking some proper time off? ... Clark threw out that notion right away as none of Bruce’s protégés were even capable of taking it easy, not after following in Batman’s footsteps.

As Clark neared the apartment’s window, he tensed at the shadowy figure standing outside of it. 

_‘If that’s Deathstroke, so help me Ma, he is going for a flight across the city courtesy of my throwing arm,’_ thought Clark, in zero mood to mess around. 

He was relieved to see that it was not a foe, but rather, Jason peering in to the dark apartment. A lit cigarette was hanging out of the right side of his mouth and his helmet had been tossed aside on the fire escape. One of Jason’s large hands was pressed to the glass and the other knocked on the window. It looked like he had just arrived as well.

“Jason-“

The young man jumped like a spooked alley cat, 

“Fuck! Jesus, Clark! You startled the everlovin’ shit outta me you super asshole!” 

“Language, Jason” tutted Clark with a terse smile. 

The smile fell away as quickly as it appeared when he remembered why they were both lurking in the dark outside of Dick’s place. 

“I’m worried about him, I’ve been losing sleep over it.. shit, I messed up bad, Clark.”

“Tim gave me an idea of what happened. I understand everyone’s emotions have been running high. You’re here now, and you guys can try to work it out. That’s what matters.”

Jason stopped for a moment, so thankful that Clark was there instead of Bruce. He needed the steady and non-judgemental presence with him right now. 

“Do you think he’s home? It’s not like Dickie to keep his place so dark”, Jason asked as he started to work the window open. 

“I can hear his heartbeat, it’s pretty rapid, but it’s his. He’s most definitely in there.” 

Jason finished prying the window open and he and Clark slid in past the pitiful attempt at a makeshift security alarm. Even with both of their large frames they didn’t even come close to  
setting it off. 

“Dick? It’s me, Clark,” he called out deliberately not wanting to startle his nephew. 

“For fuck’s sake it’s cold in here... and as dark as Satan’s butthole”, Jason flipped on a light and moved to the thermostat on the wall in the living room to find that the radiator wouldn’t turn on even after he turned up the temperature, 

“Dickie’s heat is shut off.” 

Both men moved through the apartment practically swimming through moldy take out containers dirty dishes, piles of clothes, and a vast array of crumpled papers. 

The apartment was a shock to most of their senses, but especially the smell and sight of it. It was overwhelming for Clark and Jason to be confronted with so suddenly. 

“Shit-“ 

Jason breathed out. He had moved to scan the kitchen for any sign of Dick and focussed on the countertop where the stack of ‘past due’ and ‘final notice’ bills were stacked up. The stack of mail had not even been opened. 

Clark peeked into the empty washroom as he passed it, and walked into Dick’s bedroom. He knew he was getting closer to finding his nephew as the quick heartbeat was growing louder in his super ears. 

There was no sign of Dick in his bed or anywhere else in the small room. The only other place left to check was in the closet on the far side of the room. 

As Clark slid the door open he exhaled a sharp gasp and fell to his knees as his sight was bombarded by a vision he doesn’t ever think he’ll be able to unsee.

~

“ **DICK!!!** ” Clark yelled. His heart shattered into a million pieces when he saw his eldest nephew curled up on the hard floor, he was rigid and clutching a ragged stuffed animal whose fur was stained a pinkish, red from his Dick’s own blood. He was conscious but unresponsive. Clark bent down to peer into Dick’s open eyes which were clouded, and not focused,

“Dickie, please. Say something to me. It’s me Uncle Clark... c’mon please.” 

Jason burst into the room after he heard Clark yell Dick’s name. He fell to the ground beside Clark. Jason ran his hand across Dick’s forehead and brushed his hair out of his open eyes. 

“Clark! He’s burning up! Where’s he bleeding from?! Why won’t he respond? Oh my God! Fuck!! What the fuck?!” 

Clark realized that he needed to help ease Jason back off the ledge of a looming panic attack, so he ordered Jason to grab him a damp towel so they could start to assess where the blood was coming from. 

Clark picked Dick up from the closet floor. Clark knew he was strong, but Dick was most definitely lighter and thinner than he should be. Clark laid Dick out on the bed and tried to straighten out his nephew’s overly tense limbs the best he could. 

Dick seemed to resist being pulled out of his body’s protective, curled up ball. 

Jason handed Clark a damp towel plus a dry towel and Clark proceeded to try and assess how bad Dick’s physical injuries were. 

“He must be dehydrated as well, Jason. Can you grab a glass of water and we’ll see if we can get him to drink something.”

Jason turned without a word and checked the fridge for a bottle of water. He was alarmed to find a nearly empty fridge. The only contents were a few small bottles of condiments and the Tupperware container full of leftovers Alfred had sent home with him which Dick hadn’t even touched. 

The cupboards weren’t much better, there was only one measly box of sugary cereal... but no milk in the fridge to go with it. 

Jason started to fill a glass with tap water, and roughly swiped away the solitary tear from his cheek before more tears had the chance to form a full on emotional mutiny against his eyeballs. 

Jason set the water down on Dick’s nightstand and found Clark sitting still on the bed beside Dick who was shivering involuntarily now. Seems like it was Clark’s turn to need some help re-focusing. That was when Jason saw what managed to get past Supes’ emotional defenses. 

_‘Sorry’_

One simple word. Carved into Dick’s midsection. 

Tears involuntarily started to flow down Jason’s face. 

“His wounds are infected,” Clark choked out, “he’s not responding to anything... I- can you call an ambulance, Jay?”

Jason shook his head before breathing out, 

“we should get him to the cave instead and get Alfred and Leslie to help him there. The media will rip Dickie and B apart if they get wind of this, not to mention if...”, 

Jason took another deep breath, his eyes flashed a little more green, as he crossed his arms in front of his chest he continued, 

“...if they put him in the psych ward we won’t be able to see him.”

“Ok then, Jason, please call Bruce and tell him I’m coming over with Dick. Have him call Leslie urgently. I can come back for you right away if you’d like.”

“No, I’ve got my bike here... I’ll ride over myself. I’m gonna straighten up in here a little.”

Clark nodded at Jason, and recognized that the pit was creeping up on him a bit and that he might need a bit of space. 

As Jason’s shaky fingers scrolled through his phone contacts for Bruce’s number, Clark bundled Dick up in his arms as gently as he would cradle a newborn, wrapped him in the blankets from his bed and rushed out of the apartment window.

~

Bruce had just finished his quick calls with Jason and his urgent request to Dr. Thompkins to attend, when he was alerted to Clark’s arrival at the Batcave.

“Alfred, come with me now! Tim, Cassandra, Damian, stay here for the time being. Do not come down to the cave until I say it’s ok.”

Damian scowled and moved to demand an explanation, but Cass grabbed his arm. She put a finger to her lips to shush him and miraculously he did. 

Tim knew it was bad news and who was involved. Cass sensed the urgency of the situation as usual, although she was not fully aware of what was happening. 

Alfred and Bruce hurried down to the cave and led Clark to the med bay. 

Alfred and Bruce were both rendered speechless for a quick moment as their brains tried to process the vision of their mentally broken and vacant boy lying there on the table. The eerie feeling of Dick’s distant, but unseeing stare chilled them both to their cores. 

Alfred snapped to action first going to grab an IV to start the process of getting Dick hydrated. 

Bruce started to peel the blankets away from Dick’s body to assess whatever injuries he could. He froze again when he saw Zitka, grasped in Dick’s arms and stained with his blood. Bruce’s mind flashed back to when he first met Dick at the circus following the horrific incident of his parents’ death. 

Bruce wanted to crumple in on himself as guilt washed over him. He knew that Dick was still a child at heart, as lonely and hurting as ever. Bruce felt like a monster for putting so much on Dick’s shoulders and not recognizing the signs of his withdrawal, isolation and pain. 

He thought Spyral and the tough love were needed to re-focus his eldest son after his ordeal with the Crime Syndicate. Dick was so damn capable and open to helping everyone else that it was easier to overlook the fact that he needed someone to rely on too. 

Bruce knew that Dick was being shunned by his siblings and likely his friends as well, but did nothing to intervene, he thought that Dick’s sunny personality would single-handedly win them over again, as it had so many times before.

“Dickie-“ Bruce reached out and ran his hand down Dick’s face. Bruce then remembered Clark’s presence there in the room and that Dick needed medical attention. He shoved Bruce deep down inside and let Batman take over now. 

He desperately needed Batman to take over now. 

“Alfred, we’ll need some IV antibiotics. Dick has infected wounds and a fever. I think sepsis may be setting in.”

Alfred began inserting the IV fluids into Dick’s arm. Bruce had helped to straighten the limb which took some gentle but firm effort. 

Dr. Leslie Thompkins rushed in, being the God-send that she truly was. She always managed to drop everything and get to the Manor incredibly promptly. 

Bruce and Clark filled Leslie in on what they knew about Dick’s behaviour over the past few weeks and days. Much of the information stemmed from what Tim had relayed to them. Clark further elaborated on the condition in which he discovered Dick and the state of disarray of his apartment. 

The doc looked Dick over and suggested that he was likely in a state of Catatonic Depression triggered by all of his recent trauma,

“I’m going to give him some Benzodiazepines to hopefully ease his more immediate catatonic symptoms. It should get his muscles to relax and help with his anxiety. Mind you, they are addictive, so we don’t want to use this as a long term solution. 

I’ll sedate him as well to ensure he gets some rest. Looks like he has been catatonic for a few days now,” 

She paused to give Bruce’s arm a quick, comforting squeeze. She knew Bruce well enough to measure his emotions, even when he thought he was covering them up well, 

“Alfred and I have disinfected and bandaged his wounds. He’s hooked up to antibiotics as well to flush the infection from his cuts out of his system. Thankfully, I don’t think there’s any long term physical damage here. But psychologically speaking...”

Bruce nodded in understanding, “I’ll make the appropriate calls, Doc. Thank you. For everything.”

Leslie looked over to Clark who had moved to sit out of the way. Clark nodded at the doctor warmly. His hearing had picked up the entire update from Dr. Thompkins and he slumped back into his chair. He felt the exhaustion wash over his body as the adrenaline from this evening finally began to subside. 

Alfred picked up Zitka and the blood stained sweatpants Dick had been changed out of and thought briefly of how sadly fortunate it was that he had so much experience with the removal of bloodstains. 

Bruce had pulled up a chair and sat at the bedside of his unconscious son. 

The weary man took in Dick’s features which finally looked more peaceful instead of agitated and fraught with anxiety like when he had first arrived tonight in Clark’s arms. 

Bruce grasped Dick’s hand and put his forehead to the back of his son’s hand. Wishing in that act that he could somehow absorb Dick’s trauma and take it on himself. 

Bruce didn’t notice his Kryptonian friend approach him until he heard him softly state, “Bruce, I think it would be a good idea to give the other kids an update. Jason just arrived and they could use their dad right now. I can stay here and watch over Dickie.”

Bruce sat up straight and slowly pushed himself up to stand. He felt as though he had just aged 10 years in the past few hours. He took a big breath in and released it slowly, “thanks Clark, for everything. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Clark watched his friend ascend the steps back to the manor and didn’t envy the storm that was waiting for him upstairs. He kept one ear on Dick’s resting heartbeat and the other towards the main portion of the house waiting for the tough conversations to begin.

~

“Father, I’m not a child! Tell me what happened to Grayson! I know Grayson is here! Let me go to him! I must see him!!”

A red-faced Damian confronted Bruce as he entered the kitchen where all of his kids had gathered. 

Bruce took at seat at the kitchen table and the others gathered looking at him expectantly. Well, not quite all of the others. Jason stood against a far wall with his head turned to look out the window.

Bruce knew there was no good way to start this conversation, so he just started by getting rid of their worst fears first, 

“yes, this is about Dick, and he is going to be ok according to Dr. Thompkins. He has been having a hard time with his mental health, but as a family we are all going to support him and get him some professional help.”

“A _’hard time’_ with his mental health?! Fuck! Bruce!! This was more than just a ‘hard time’!!!” 

Jason ran his hands through his hair and dragged his hands roughly down his face. His family glimpsed his bruised and bloodied knuckles... no doubt from taking his pent up emotions towards the situation out on something- or some unlucky criminal- before arriving at the manor. 

Bruce looked into Jason’s green tinged eyes and solemnly agreed, 

“yes, Jay you’re right. This was definitely building for a while for Dick and we didn’t recognize or address it with him sooner. We are very lucky that he is still with us right now. 

If he would have been left alone much longer, he probably wouldn’t be.”

“We did this to him.” Jason stated matter of factly, before erupting, “we treated him like shit under our goddamn shoes! I wanted to make him feel like an asshole for making us hurt. He made us think he was gone for good, so I wanted him to think he lost us for good. I wanted to make him feel sorry.”

Jason swiped his arm across his face and eyes before finishing, “well it fuckin’ worked. He is sorry. So sorry that he carved the word into himself with a knife. He’s going to have that scarred on him forever.”

Tim, Damian and Cass all blanched at Jason’s last statement. They weren’t aware of the state in which Dick had been discovered. 

Tim broke down in tears and put his head down onto the table in front of him. 

Since the band-aid was being ripped off, Bruce decided it would be for the best to just pull it the rest of the way off now rather than later. 

Bruce cradled the cup of tea that Alfred had set down for him. He hadn’t even noticed when had Alfred come into the kitchen. Alfred was exceptionally talented at knowing where and when he was most needed.

“You should all know before you see him, that he does have some self inflicted wounds. He may have had some injuries from patrol that he never cleaned or patched up. His cuts were quite infected. 

He also wasn’t responding to any stimuli, it didn’t seem like he was seeing or hearing any of us. Leslie said it’s probably a depressive, catatonic state. He has meds to help him out immediately and hopefully they will help him get back to being responsive again,”

Bruce paused a moment and went on, “we all know how self-defeating Dick can be. We all need to be extra understanding and you all need to try harder to put aside what you think Dick had done. I can tell you he is not to blame for Spyral. I forced him into it, and thought it would be the best for him following his ordeal and for the greater good of the hero community. I had no idea of how much that decision would cost our family. How much it would cost Dick. Be mad at me if you must, but not at Dick please.”

With that, Bruce stood up, “you’re all welcome to come down and see him. He’s sedated in order to get some proper rest. If you’d rather wait to see him when he’s awake, it’s up to you.”

Nobody moved to assign any blame to Bruce at this point as they realized they had blamed Dick and.. well look what happened. They understood that blame just leads to more hurt on all sides. 

Without hesitation, all of the batkids rushed out of the room. 

Bruce stopped Jason before he could reach the others. He grasped Jason’s hand in his own and without explanation, walked him over to the kitchen sink. Jason watched in stunned silence as Bruce tenderly ran his second son’s hands under the lukewarm tap water gently rubbing to clean away the blood and dirt. 

Bruce grabbed the first aid kit from the kitchen cabinet and Jason didn’t resist when Bruce proceeded to expertly bandage his son’s hands. 

Bruce embraced Jason in a tight hug, somehow sensing what his son needed in that moment. Jason, for once, didn’t have even the slightest urge to punch Bruce in the face, and allowed himself to actually lean into the warmth of his dad. 

Neither of them ever brought up the warm tears that the other shed into one another’s shoulders.

~

Clark rushed down to the Batcave in a panic. Arisen from his slumber in one of the manor’s many guest bedrooms. The wake up call wasn’t a gentle alarm or a rooster’s crowing like back on the farm, but the agonizing scream that emanated from the caverns below Wayne Manor.

He knew Dick wasn’t alone down there as he could hear many frantic voices trying to soothe his eldest nephew, but he couldn’t just lie in bed and ignore a scream that sounded so soul-crushing. 

Entering the medical bay, he saw Damian kneeling on the left side of the bed next to Dick, Bruce standing at the foot of the bed and Jason on the right side of the bed. Jason and Damian were trying to soothe Dick, but Dick was in full-on panic mode.

Seeing Clark, Dick screamed desperately, 

“ _Superman!!!_ Save my brothers!!! It’s B!! B is going to hurt them, he’s going to send them away!!!!” 

He grabbed at Jason’s hand and pulled it close to him,

“his hands!! They’re wrapped!!! B is going to fight!! I can’t lose Jay!!! Can’t lose Jay again!!!!”

Dick panicked. He looked up at Bruce with nothing less than complete horror on his face. If he hadn’t been at the cave this entire time, they all would’ve believed that Dick got hit with fear toxin instead of having a panic attack due to his apparent PTSD. 

Beads of sweat formed and started rolling down Dick’s face and he was panting heavily. His blue eyes darted around taking in the images around him but his brain couldn’t process quickly enough. 

Bruce rushed out of the med bay, since he was the one who triggered this panic attack. His son finally woke up and registered that he was in the cave. Dick had looked at Bruce then at his brothers, then he had noticed the white bandages wrapped around Jason’s injured knuckles. 

Bruce shook his head and kicked himself, he understood in hindsight just how many potential triggers were there to bombard Dick’s senses. 

Bruce wanted the floor to swallow him up knowing that he was the reason for Dick’s extreme response. 

As Bruce retreated he could still hear frantic shouts of, “RUN Little Wing!!! You and Dami GO!!! NOW!!! Clark take them to the farm!!!!! Hide them!!! Where’s Tim??! Timmy!!!! NO!!! B!! B will come back!!!”

~

Clark bent down beside Dick to look his nephew in the face, “kiddo, look at me please. Try to focus on me,”

After a few minutes of urging, Dick managed to look into Clark’s sky blue eyes, “what you’re imagining isn’t real. Nobody here will hurt you, I promise. Dickie, let’s slow down your heart rate so you can come back to us, ok?”

Dick nodded jerkily to show that he understood, 

“Dickie I’m going to touch you, is that ok?” asked Jason from beside him

“Yes, Jason. If- if you want to” Dick assented weakly. He turned to look at Jason and the larger man had to force himself to also stay grounded and not think about how impossibly sad Dick’s eyes looked.

Jason rubbed Dick’s back and touched his chest lightly. 

“Grayson, breathe in and out with me”, instructed Damian. Dick mimicked Damian’s measured breathing pattern. 

With the collective assistance, Dick began to relax and show signs of coming back to himself again. 

Tim shuffled to to the entrance of the med bay. He looked a little frazzled and tentative at having heard Dick’s frantic cries. Clark left the area as Tim entered, not wanting to overcrowd Dick. 

Dick looked over to Tim and gestured for him to come closer. Dick grabbed on to Tim and pulled him in close for a hug. Tim squeezed him back. Dick looked to Jason and Damian while clutching onto Tim then he closed his eyes and whispered, 

“I’m so sorry.” 

_‘No no no no no,’._ Jason thought. 

It was bad enough that his older brother would have to live with the scar of that apologetic word on his torso, but he definitely shouldn’t be uttering those words. Especially not when that line of thinking is what got Dick to this position. 

“Dickie, no. You will not apologize. Not to us, fuck.. not ever.”

Tim chimed in, “I’m sorry that we ignored you and hurt you. You have always been there for us, protected us and the one time you needed us we let you down, and then kicked you when you were down.”

“But Tim, I lied and hurt you guys. My baby brothers. I took Robin away from you. Jay.. uh, I mean Jason.... I....”

“Hey, Dickiebird, knock it off,” Jason interrupted assertively, “none of us are angels here. We have all made tons of fuckin’ mistakes. We’re all gonna get over it together though. We need you, our big bro, ok?”

Dick nodded silently and leaned back into the pillows. He tried to battle the sudden exhaustion that he was feeling when Damian hugged Dick and uttered, “rest now, Richard. We will watch over you and be here when you wake again.”

~

The next time Dick regained consciousness was mercifully a lot less eventful.

He noticed that his IV lines had finally been removed. True to Damian’s word, all of his brothers were nearby. Jason was sprawled out asleep on the floor using his leather jacket as a pillow. 

Damian was curled up beside Dick, fast asleep as well with a little dribble of drool on his cheek. 

Tim was sitting on a chair with his laptop no doubt working on one of his many projects, 

“Hey Tim,” Dick asked softly so as not to wake the others. Tim looked up from his laptop, “where is B?”

“He’s upstairs. Clark was with him, but left not too long ago, he said had to go see Lois and finish something at work. B... um, he didn’t want to upset you, so he has been giving you some space.” 

Dick gently scooted up to a seated position and shifted Damian gently off of his side. Dick tucked his baby brother in under the blankets as he moved to stand,

“Hey Dick, careful!” Tim hissed at him and steadied an initially wobbly Dick by the arm. 

Stabilizing himself, Dick said to Tim, “I’m going to go see Bruce” 

Tim retorted, “there’s no way I can stop you, is there?” 

“Nope.”

Dick grinned at Tim in what was probably his first genuine smile in a long time, “you can walk upstairs with me to find him if you’d like.”

With that, the first and third Robins made their way upstairs leaving their sleeping brothers behind.

~

Bruce had sat on the edge of his bed and contemplated taking a quick nap, but he knew it would just be a futile endeavour with so much weighing so heavily on his mind.

He flopped his large frame down on the bed and had just thrown his arm over his eyes when he heard a light tapping at his door. 

Bruce got up and opened the door only to look down in shock and see his 2 sons standing there. 

“Hey Dad,”. Tim piped up, “Dick wanted to come have a chat with you. Um... I’ll just be in my room, I guess? ... D come get me when you’re done, ‘kay?”

“Sure thing, Timbo,” Dick confirmed with a quick hug. 

“Is it ok to talk for a minute, B? ...I can come back another time if you were busy or sleeping,” Dick shifted uncomfortably. 

“Of course, please come in chum,” replied Bruce.

Dick walked over and as he sat on the corner of Bruce’s entirely too large bed, he remembered all of the times he would crash with Bruce after a nightmare. 

He reminisced about the feeling of warmth and safety as Bruce would lift the covers and pull him close; wiping his tears instead of being the cause of them. 

Dick wasn’t sure whether he wanted to smile at the memory or mourn the loss of their close bond. In the end, he didn’t do either. 

“Dickie, hey, you alright sweetheart?” Bruce called softly, bringing Dick out of the pensive moment. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure did scare us Dick. We have all been so worried about you.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to trouble anyone,” Dick said, hanging his head. 

“No, Dick. No apologies,”

Dick’s shoulders hunched in shame and he started to curl in on himself. Truthfully, Dick didn’t know why he felt so compelled to see Bruce or what he actually wanted to say, he was hoping that the universe would show him some mercy and grant him some eloquent words to miraculously fix everything that had gone so wrong between him and Bruce over the years. 

_‘Of course the universe hates me,’_ Dick thought to himself. He was going to continue to mentally berate himself for wasting Bruce’s time until Bruce once again prodded him, 

“Dickie? Hey, you with me? I hope you know you have nothing to feel sorry about at all. You are not to blame for anything. I- I messed up and hurt you, and I can see now how much damage I have caused to you and to us all. I would beg you for forgiveness but I know I need to earn back your trust. 

I hope that someday you can think of me as your dad again.”

Dick, sat stupefied for a moment, processing the rarely spoken heartfelt words from Bruce. He hadn’t realized Bruce still cared about him and hearing him speak so openly, similar to when Dick had been a child, was enough to break down Dick’s wall of resentment towards his adoptive father. 

Dick crumpled into a sobbing ball back onto bed and now it was Bruce’s turn to be stunned. 

Bruce gathered Dick up and pulled him into his arms, mimicking the protective way he would cradle a young Dick Grayson during his earliest days at the manor. 

Bruce pressed a kiss onto the top of Dick’s head and stated with no hint of doubt, 

“we’re going to get through this Dickie, I promise. I’m going to be better, I’ll get help to be a better dad, because I need you in my life. Will you give me another chance to be here for you?”

Dick nodded into Bruce’s massively muscled chest,

“Dickie we will get you help too,”

As Bruce was speaking, his bedroom door burst open with two figures, one smaller and one a lot larger, rushing into the room like a couple of raging bulls. 

Both Jason and Damian looked bedraggled with their hair sticking up at rakish angles. Bruce would have chuckled at the sight, especially seeing Damian’s cheek with a hint of crusty sleep drool caked on it, but he hadn’t even had time to decipher what was happening,

“Unhand Grayson, father!!!” 

Damian demanded with fierce protectiveness without properly reading the room first.

Luckily Jason had better comprehension of them intruding on the ‘Kodak moment’, between Bruce and Dick and sheepishly scolded Damian,

“Sheesh Demon... what are you? The damn Sheriff of Nottingham or sum shit? Let’s give them a sec,”

Jason grabbed on to the back of Damian’s shirt and dragged the reluctant mini-Wayne out of the room giving Dick and Bruce their privacy once again.

~

A month later, Dick found himself back in his apartment. He had returned to find that Bruce had paid his rent and bills for the year, and Alfred had thoroughly scoured his entire apartment as well as prepared a freezer full of healthy meals for him.

Typically Dick would have been too proud to accept any assistance but he had to admit that not having the financial burden for a bit as well as returning to a clean, bright and warm apartment was a practical and helpful boost. 

He had started seeing a psychiatrist and was taking medication for his depression. So far it all seemed to be helping. 

Dick’s ears detected a tapping at his window and he peered over to find Jason already working the window open, not waiting for an invitation to come in. Jason slinked in and straightened up to his full height. 

“Hey Dickface, you up for some pizza and one of your dumbass princess movies?”

Dick stood, he blinked in shock for a moment. Was this really happening? 

Jason had not voluntarily come to see him in... well, Dick couldn’t even remember how long it had been since Jason had even wanted to talk to him, much less hang out. The latest times Dick had seen Jason was at the manor, and other family members were always present. Dick had never wanted to push it either given his and Jason’s volatile interaction on the rooftop a couple of months ago. 

If Dick had to pinpoint a feeling, he would say he was a little nervous. He thought back to how angry he had made Jason and he didn’t want to do anything to hurt or upset his younger brother again. 

Snap. Snap. 

Jason clicked his fingers in front of Dick’s face. 

“Yo! Earth to Dickiebird... anybody home up there?”

“Sorry, Jason. I just wasn’t expecting company. I’m a little surprised, that’s all.”

“So, pizza? Movies? You down?” Jason repeated his question.

“Sure, if you want to, Jason,” Dick answered cautiously.

“Hell yeah, I’ll order, you pick the movie,”

Partway through the beginning of the animated version of Aladdin, there was a knock at the apartment door alerting them that the pizza Jason ordered had arrived. He pushed Dick back onto the couch when his older brother attempted to get up to pay.

Jason dropped the box of pizza and pop cans onto the coffee table. He flung the pizza box open as he sat back down on the couch and started to eat. 

Jason paused after a couple of bites when he noticed Dick hadn’t made a move to grab any food. Jason also noticed from the corner of his eye, that Dick was watching him,

“What?”, Jason inquired without turning to look at Dick. He took another bite of his pizza. 

“Huh?”

“What are you looking at?”

“You. You... don’t have to stay to babysit me you know. I’ll be fine.”

Jason paused and dropped his half eaten slice of pizza back into the box. 

“I’m not here to _babysit_ you. Is it so hard to believe that I might actually wanna fuckin’ hang out?”

“Well, sort of.. yeah. Look Jason, I know that you and the others have been hanging out and actually voluntarily enjoy each other’s company. I don’t want to get in the way. Just because I’m screwed up doesn’t mean that’s your problem to fix. You guys don’t need me to drag you down. I’ll just let you down again.”

Dick finished his explanation with a matter-of-fact tone and turned his attention back towards the movie. He figured that his medication was the sole reason he was able to keep himself together, as he would normally have cried after laying things out like that.”

“You actually believe that, Dickie?”

“Yes.”

Jason pushed himself up to stand in front of Dick and blocked his view of the TV. 

“Look at me, Dick.”

Dick averted his eyes and made a move to leave the room not wanting to engage in this conversation right now. 

“No, no, Dickie. Stay. We need to have a little chat. Now sit the fuck down.”

Dick complied and took a seat again.

“Ok now, Dickface. Let’s make things clear. I can’t pretend I wasn’t fucking pissed off at you for everything that happened before. I still don’t get it. 

But, seeing you near death like that... I can’t stop fucking seeing that every time I close my eyes, Dick. I regret everything I said when I was mad.”

“Jason, you don’t need to-“

“Hell yes, I need to. I have to tell you that I’m not mad at you anymore. Tim and I should have known better. You always try to do the right thing Dickiebird and ... well... shit... I don’t know what to say. I just know I’m so fucking sorry man.”

“I missed you, Jay... uh sorry, Jason.” Dick said cautiously.

Jason bristled as he realized that Dick was still correcting himself and respecting what Jason had said in his rage. He recalled telling Dick that he was ‘Jason’ to him, but now hearing him _not_ use a playful nickname when speaking with him just felt... so wrong.

“Dickie, please call me Jay or Little Wing, or whatever the fuck else you want.”

Dick closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around his younger, but larger brother. Jason hugged Dick back tightly. 

“Hey Jay?” Dick asked while still hugging Jason,

“Yeah?”

“Do you think Tim forgives me too?”

Jason looked over towards the window of Dick’s apartment to see a lanky, teenaged figure sliding in through the window,

“I’m pretty sure he does, Dickie, but maybe you should just ask him yourself.”

The night ended with forgiveness hugs, more pizza being ordered and young Damian also sneaking his way in through Dick’s window. 

Jason spied Dick’s new phone, grabbed it and programmed his number into it. A minute later he added Dick back into the family chat group, and Dick found that the only tears he cried that night were finally not due to sadness but the hope of a happier future.


End file.
